


O Captain! My Captain!

by Leafling



Category: Man of Steel (2013), Smallville, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Jokes, Bondage, Cosplay, Costume Kink, Established Relationship, I REGRET NOTHING, Irony, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Puns & Word Play, Secret Relationship, Superhero Fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafling/pseuds/Leafling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin has a superhero fetish. Clark obliges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Captain! My Captain!

**Author's Note:**

> Captain Incredible and everything else that's unrecognizable is that way for a reason... I made that shit up for the sake of this story. 
> 
> Happy Fourth, everyone!

Clark arrives at Colin’s house at half-past four. His aunt’s not home and neither is her fiancé; Clark finds this out when he knocks several times and no one answers. Colin is notorious for his bad hearing; Clark knows that even if he rings the doorbell, the other won’t be able to hear him. 

It’s cold outside; the ground is ashen from freshly fallen snow. Not that the temperature bothers Clark—he knows that Colin has this thing about leaving his window open, especially when it starts snowing; something about collecting snowflakes on his windowsill. 

Clark walks around the side of the house, trying not to look suspicious with his hands in his pockets as he surveys the area for onlookers. Standing underneath Colin’s window, he strains his hearing to figure out whether or not the teen’s in his bedroom. When he hears nothing, Clark furrows his brows. 

At this rate, Clark’s going to be standing out here all day; or at least until Colin’s aunt gets back. 

Deciding he likes neither of those options, Clark makes the daring decision to climb through Colin’s window. It barely takes a minute to do, all things considered, but Clark still is wary of witnesses and closes the window as soon as he’s in. 

Toeing off his boots because he knows how Colin’s aunt is about guests wearing shoes in the house, Clark looks around the room while he waits for Colin to appear from wherever he’s gone. Colin’s walls are covered with clippings of comic books—correction, not comic books, _a_ comic book; his favorite comic book of them all, **"The incredible adventures of Captain Incredible."**

Clark isn’t the biggest fan of Captain Incredible (or any comic books really) but he knows a lot more about the renowned superhero than he would like to thanks to Colin and his obsessive devotion to the series. From lunchboxes to figurines and t-shirts; Colin had more Captain Incredible memorabilia than most kids had clothes. 

When Clark was first invited into Colin’s room, he was _somewhat_ disturbed by it all. Only _somewhat_ because after Colin locked the door behind them, he pounced on Clark and the two of them went tumbling to his bed—which, surprisingly, didn’t have Captain Incredible on it. 

Afterwards, he really didn’t give any of the keepsakes a second-thought. He couldn’t actually because it didn’t take long for his mind to become preoccupied with the fact that, _wow, he’s never gotten head before!_

Clark paces around Colin’s room for the moment. Passing Colin’s desk twice, Clark can’t help but notice that, underneath piles of text books and trash, there are heartfelt letters to and from Colin’s younger brother and sister. Colin usually never talks about them past basic information: their names are Georgina and Will; they’re twelve and nine; and they live in Metropolis with Colin’s estranged father and his second family since their aunt didn’t have the means to take them in. 

Without fully reading the letter, Clark can make out that Colin has agreed to visit them during the summertime. Clark feels his skin prickle with anger because _why hasn’t Colin told him about this trip yet?_ He decides, however, that maybe it wouldn’t be best to bring it up to the other teen because he’s _not supposed to_ know about it in the first place. 

Turning his attention to Colin’s closet, Clark finds that the door has been left ajar and the clothing within has been disheveled; it’s a departure from the usual state of organization. Clark wonders if it’s because Colin’s been packing for his trip, but there are no bags half-stuffed with clothing to support his theory. 

Clark perks up when he hears the bathroom door open, followed by the sound of footsteps proceeding up the hallway towards the room. Colin’s footfall is different than usual; it’s lighter and more practiced than normal. Clark wonders why Colin is sneaking around in his own house when the door is gently pushed open. 

Clark’s eyes widen as he stares at Colin in the doorway. He can’t decide whether to be shocked or not. 

Colin’s mouth twitches as though he’s blushing; Clark can’t really tell because Colin’s wearing a black cat-burglar mask that covers a good majority of his eyes and cheeks.

Out of all the things you could catch someone doing, and out of all the things you could catch someone doing that is awkward; Clark doesn’t know where to place finding Colin dressed as his beloved superhero. 

Colin, true to Captain Incredible’s costume, is clad virtually from head-to-foot in a form-fitting, intricately designed black and white nylon-bodysuit that’s embellished with the insignia of Captain Incredible, a pair flimsy-looking knee high boots that look better suited for a stripper than a crime fighter, a chunky utility belt hanging from his hips, and of course the _plat de résistance_ , a shiny black mantle that hung from one shoulder. His hair is parted to the side, shiny from gel, styled in a way that defied gravity. The area around his eyes where the mask doesn’t cover is painted black. 

He certainly looks like Captain Incredible… _well, a tiny, skinny, unintimidating Captain Incredible, but the point still stands._

Colin feels Clark’s eyes giving him the once over; he fidgets embarrassedly. "Well? How do I look?" He asks when he finds his voice. Turning around to give Clark a full view of his costume, his voice almost cracks when he speaks. "Is it good? I mean, it’s still a work in progress; I haven’t finished the utility belt or the accents on the cape—" 

Colin’s babbling. Clark interrupts him by taking his hand and leading him to the mirror, where they both stand and stare at Colin’s nearly complete costume. 

Colin’s flush stains the uncovered portions of his face. He avoids eye contact with his own reflection and Clark. He barely catches Clark’s appreciative smile, "you look… _incredible._ " 

Colin doesn’t know if the pun is intentional; it makes him laugh regardless. _"Really,"_ he asks hopefully. Relaxing visibly, Colin finally looks at himself. He finds that it’s not that bad; in fact, it actually looks _fucking incredible,_ as Clark so aptly put it. 

Turning side to side to really take in the full effect of the costume—the contrasting shine of the white material against the matte of the black creating an illusion that he had a sleek frame; the way the fabric hugged his wiry frame like a second-skin, it looked as good as it felt. 

Colin grins from ear-to-ear. Shrugging his cape off his arm and watching how the fabric flutters as it settles behind him, Colin meets Clark’s eyes through the mirror. "I feel fucking… _super._ " He announces still sounding like he's in awe. “My aunt says that clothes don’t make the man, but… damn, I feel like I can move mountains.” 

Clark laughs incredulously. "Move mountains? You’ll _freeze_ if you go outside like that." 

"Shh, you’re ruining my moment." Colin chides, though his tone lacks any heat. Following the thick red seams that serve as a border between the two different materials of his costume, Colin’s grin widens. “Come feel this. Isn’t it super smooth?” 

Clark lets out a longsuffering sigh. Crossing the divide between them, he reaches out a tentative hand and rolls his eyes when Colin takes said hand and pulls it to him. 

Clark has to admit, the fabric underneath his fingertips is soft despite the scaly-decal. Smoothing his hands out along Colin’s sides as he too becomes distracted by the rubber closures of the costume, Clark feels Colin’s dull nails press in his wrist hard. 

Through the mirror, their eyes meet; the heated look Colin fixes Clark with has the larger teen hardening in his jeans. 

Colin’s tugging Clark’s hand down until together they relieve Colin of his utility belt. It slips from his narrow hips without much of a fight. 

_**CLUNK!**_ It hits the floor with a deafening thud. 

The tension in the air is palpable. Colin breathes deeply as he fights to keep eye contact with Clark. “This is going to sound totally weird... but... I’m _incredibly_ turned on, right now.” 

_Well, this escalated quickly..._

Clark clears his throat before he speaks, "you… want to have sex in-costume?" 

Colin flushes. _How come it didn’t sound as absurd when he was thinking about it?_ Pressing his forehead against the chilled glass, he stares down at his feet. "Hey, if _YOU_ have any weird, kinky sex-fantasies I’m all ears." 

Clark rakes his fingers through his hair, exhaling deeply because he knows he can’t say no. At least, not when Colin’s dressed like he is. 

When Clark steps in closer, Colin spreads his legs and _damn_ it if it isn’t the most tempting thing Clark’s ever seen. 

Colin sighs heavily against the mirror, warm breath fogging up the glass. His eyes flutter as he feels Clark pulling his tight black pants down his thighs. The nylon is too tight to yank down so Clark peels it off slowly. _Too slowly._ **Almost as though he’s unwrapping a present.**

Colin stops breathing altogether when Clark pushes his upper body flat against the glass. Clark’s familiar weight and the cold of the mirror making his skin prickle with goosebumps. 

Hot hands roam his body; smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric that covers his lower abdomen, making him shudder as Colin eagerly anticipates what they’ll do next. 

Clark digs his fingers between the subtle dips in Colin’s abdominal muscles, making the teen squirm all the more before he lifts the material altogether to caress the skin that lay beneath. 

Colin’s stomach is smooth, but as Clark’s fingers travel downward he feels the beginnings of fine hair. He stops short of Colin’s erection in favor of teasing the sensitive skin around it. Colin breathes heavily. 

Pressing closer to the unyielding mirror, he closes his eyes and rocks his hips urgently against Clark’s hands; willing the other to do _something._

His impatience leads Clark to continue his touches elsewhere. Colin whimpers but doesn’t object because Clark’s hands are snaking their way up his diaphragm. When he receives a sharp pinch to both of his nipples, Colin shudders and wriggles against Clark. This abuse continues until Colin’s nipples are thoroughly hard, chaffing against the fabric of his top as Clark removes his hands; the friction sending little shocks of pleasure up his spine. 

Colin’s leaking pre-cum. It’s trailing down his leg, pooling in the fabric bunched around his thighs. He knows it’s going to stain if he doesn’t attend to it immediately. However, despite how much effort went into making the getup; Colin finds that he doesn’t really care if it’s dirtied by this tryst. Even if it means ruining expensive material, Colin wants _some_ sort of proof that he got Clark to fuck him while he was in his Captain Incredible costume. 

Clark unbuckles his belt loudly, knowing that the sound puts Colin on alert. He also knows that the teen can’t anticipate what he’s going to do next. This in mind, Clark pulls the belt free from its loops and quickly captures both of Colin’s arms. Before the teen can fully comprehend what’s happening, Clark secures the belt around his wrists. 

Colin’s pressing uncomfortably against the glass because he can longer hold himself up. His eyes fly open. So close to the mirror all he can see is himself; the look of raw lust in his eyes. Colin gasps. 

Clark pulls the belt tighter to make sure there isn’t any slack; the leather almost cuts into Colin’s skin. Clark knows he can always pull it tighter—that Colin wouldn't fuss or resist because he has a thing for being tied up—but Clark is nothing if not careful and resolves not to bruise Colin anymore than absolutely necessary.

Colin’s heart is beating so hard that Clark can hear it; can feel the slighter teen’s pulse pounding as he holds onto the belt with one hand and rubs teasingly at the inside of Colin’s thigh with the other. The staccato rhythm would almost be alarming if Clark wasn't so used to the sound. 

Colin can see that Clark is moving in his peripheral vision, but he can’t look away from his own eyes. When Clark presses a slick finger inside of Colin without warning, it catches the slighter teen completely off-guard. His body stretches to accommodate the intrusion within; it isn't anything he isn't used to by now, but Colin squirms all the same when he feels Clark tease at his prostate. Panting as Clark’s sly finger edges around his sweet spot, Colin grits his teeth. He wants to whine—to tell Clark to stop messing around—but Clark doesn’t let him give him the chance to. 

Pressing two more fingers inside, Clark revels in Colin’s steady stream of fragmented pleas. Since no one else is home, Clark takes his time drawing this out. 

Gripping Colin by his hip with his free hand, Clark presses down until Colin’s whole torso is pressed against the mirror. Colin lets out a long hissing moan as the entire length of his cock meets the cold glass, smearing the reflective surface with pearlescent fluid. Colin’s hands flex into fists behind his back; his whole body pulsating as he struggles against his bindings. 

Clark twists and fucks his fingers into Colin with practiced precision; stretching Colin and pleasuring him at the same time without over doing it. 

Colin can barely see. His eyes are filled with tears that haven’t yet made it over his waterline. He can’t blink them away; can’t blink at all because he doesn’t want to miss a moment of what’s happening. 

When Clark’s fingers assault his prostate all at once, the trance Colin has himself in breaks and he’s scrunching his eyes closed before he can stop himself. A shrill sound escapes him as those unshed tears finally stream down the corners of his eyes, mixing in with the black maquillage he’s wearing, leaving dark streaks on his mask. 

Clark doesn’t let up. Pulling his fingers out only a fraction of an inch, he drives them back in punishingly. Each thrust driving Colin closer to his end. He’s getting louder and louder, his breath becoming harder and harder to catch. Even with his eyes closed, Colin still sees a dizzying array of colors dancing in his vision. He feels like he’s losing his mind. 

Clark removes his fingers altogether right when Colin feels as though he’s going to come. Shushing the slighter teen when he sobs his protest, Clark pulls Colin’s hips back towards him. Colin shifts against the mirror. By then, the glass is dirty and ruined; too murky to see through. Colin is unable to see any more than his and Clark’s silhouettes. 

Clark takes advantage of this. He breaches Colin when the slighter teen stops bracing for it, and doesn’t give him a chance to get accustom to the intrusion as he grips Colin’s hip tight and sets a hard pace. He wraps the belt taut around his other hand to keep Colin’s arms completely immobilized. 

Pain blossoms where Clark’s holding his hip, numbness seizing Colin's arms as the belt constricts the flow of blood to his fingers. No matter how uncomfortable it feels, however, it pales in comparison to the overwhelming pleasure that he’s drowning in. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Colin knows he’ll be bruised when everything is said and done. He doesn't cares. He'll wear the bruises like badges of honor, Colin thinks. 

Clark’s hand releases his hip, moving instead to grip Colin’s thigh. Colin is given no warning before Clark lifts his leg and presses his knee hard into the wall; spreading Colin wider and offering Clark a better angle to fuck him at. A new pace follows this change of position; it rougher and faster than before. 

Colin’s body is singing with pleasure. He doesn’t know how much more he can take. Clark can tell that Colin’s on the edge. Pressing his lips to the shell of Colin’s ear, he purrs, _“Captain.”_

A broken sound that’s _not quite_ Clark’s name tears itself from Colin’s throat. He comes all over his mirror, vision going dark as he loses it. 

Colin rouses when Clark moves him to the bed. There’s a towel laid out over the sheets; Colin doesn’t try to give it a second-thought as he lets Clark pull the rest of his costume off. Colin's exhausted and sore, his body seeming to buzz all over. _Ahh, this is satisfaction._

As soon as Clark is done tending to him, Colin curls up on the bed like a contented cat. Clark joins him soon after. Nuzzling against Colin's back, he breathes in the other's scent. “So... when were you going to tell me about your superhero fetish?" Clark asks right when Colin's on the verge of drifting off.

The slighter teen startles a bit, not expecting Clark to speak. When he settles, Colin chuckles tiredly, "well, technically, it's a costume fetish since superheroes aren't real. And even if they were, _even if Madam Cross_ came onto me," Colin interrupts himself with a yawn, "I think I'd still have to stick with my mild-mannered country boy..." 

Clark smirks against the nape of Colin's neck. "I'm that much better?"

Colin nods, "of course... I don't think I could deep-throat anyone who's got superhuman strength... I can barely manage _you_ , as is."


End file.
